


Red Bloods

by orphan_account



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: AU, F/M, Garrus is a C-Sec rookie, Maybe sex, Mentions of violence and rape, Romance, Shepard is a colonist who was kidnapped by slavers, awkward teenagers, maybe?? - Freeform, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-07-29 02:00:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 8,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7665979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was from Mindoir, the girl who saved herself. He was living in his father's shadow, desperately vying for approval while also attempting to carve out his own identity. They make it work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for any typos or oddly worded/ structured sentences. I find my muse at the dead hours of night, which isn't the best time to be writing. 
> 
> If you're worried about updates, have no fear. I have planned out this story from beginning to end (with juicy details somewhere in between) and will finish it. Or not, hubris and all.

Garrus grumbled, slumped against the painted metal of a wall. Being new, he ended up "drawing" the short straw for shifts, landing himself in the docks in the ass crack of dawn. Did the Citadel have dawn? The lights did run 24/7, so it was hard to tell. What he did know was that the recycled air from the vent above him was chilling the skin on his neck more than he liked, so he decided to take a walk.

 

The young turian padded along the line of ships. _The Lady_ was an old ship, taking supplies from outlying farming colonies and making routine deliveries to the various restaurants on the Citadel. Garrus new a buddy back at C-Sec who had a cousin who manned the ship. With half-lidded eyes, he pushed a crate placed by a lazy ship-hand out of the way from the path with his boot. Eyes drawn to a bold streak of red on the bulkhead of a ship, Garrus paused. He'd never seen this ship before, and something put him off about it. _Red Bloods._ Garrus shook off his uneasiness, snorting at the name. Some humans who thought they were clever. Spine a little straighter, he marched tensely past.  

 

Then the doors opened.

 

Garrus immediately stopped, his mandibles flaring in shock. He smelled blood. Lots of blood. He wheeled around, drawing his rifle up to his shoulder, eyes squinting against the light pouring from the opening in the ship.

 

There stood a girl, clutching a twisted piece of metal in her hand, soaked in blue and red blood. She was dressed in a shirt, turian in make. Her eyes were wide and wild, brandishing the knife at him.

 

They stood, at a standoff. Unsure of the next step.

 

"Are-" She licked her chapped lips- "are you a cop?"

 

Human for C-sec. "Yes."

 

"Can you help me?"


	2. Chapter 2

She awakes with a gasp, eyelids fluttering open against the dark. She swallowed, pushing against the memories that threatened to spill over, both from her eyes and her stomach. She tasted bile. Sitting up, she looked around, hoping she would be in her room back in the colony, but all that greeted her was steel walls, stained dark, and a single door. With a nail, she scratched a tally into the paint. Five. Not five days, she couldn't count the days based on the series of dark and artificial light. She could count how many times she fell asleep, woke up. Five times. Could have been a week, maybe. A month.

 

She didn't want them to come back. When they came back, she remembered how she got in this hellhole in the first place. Unbidden and unwanted, she remembered anyway.

 

The slavers came in a swarm, a sunny bright day blotted out by the hulking, twisted ships. If she didn't know better, she would have thought they smelled of death. Her mother had urged her to hide in the bunker used to hide from the summer monsoons before sprinting off to find her father, feet kicking up clouds of dirt in the freshly planted fields.

 

So she hid, hacking the door shut. She was good at that, computers and the like. With an ear pressed against the door, she waited and listened. Listened past the screams and gunfire, praying to any and all gods that would listen. She was supposed to go to college this year, off planet at a fancy tech school. Maybe she'd join the Navy, make ships.

 

In the end, it didn't matter if the door had been hacked shut or not. They pried it off it's hinges, cracking it open like a shelled ocean creature, dragging out the girl with difficulty. She fought, she was strong. At least she was until she saw the bodies. Mom and dad, blood soaking into the tilled soil, small green plants soaking it up. Dad clutched an old rifle, his prized possession, he doted over it like a new child. Mom joked that he would leave her for it, "his baby." The thing was probably too old to even squeeze off three shots before the slavers melted a hole through his chest. She stopped struggling and let them haul her to the beast of a ship, a final look at the sun that had watched her for so many years. And then darkness.

 

She'd been clawing at the walls again, the tips of her fingers raw. She convinced herself that if she managed to pry a panel loose, she could get to some wires, and then... something. She hadn't made it that far yet. This group was new, different from the batatians that had slaughtered and engulfed her little colony. They were human, turian, even a salarian. Once the batarians had traded her for a hand full of circuitry, they warned that she was a fighter. The turian just smiled, needle teeth barred, and said he loved a challenge.

 

The bite at the junction of her neck and shoulder burned as she worked, weeping blood. Cuts on her thighs throbbed, soaking the hem of her shirt in another layer of blood.

 

With a huff, she pulled off the panel, cutting herself on the metal, and landing on her ass.

 

"My name is Viola Shepard, and I am strong." She flung the metal at the wall and stood. "My mother and father loved me."

 

She bent the metal into a crude knife, hacking at the wires. Viola was good at this computer stuff.

 

The door swooshed open, breaking the seal from her small darkness, the sound of laughter pouring into her hell. She stepped into the door way, relishing in the feel of sharp metal cutting into her palm.

 

She sucked on a lip, wincing as a flake of skin unwillingly parted from her lips. "My name is Viola Shepard. I was supposed to go to college."


	3. Chapter 3

The captain sighed, tossing the datapad onto his desk and dragged a hand over his face. Fernel was old, at least to Garrus. His face paint was starting to chip away against the gray of his plates.

 

Garrus shifted in his seat, the silence tense in the dimly lit office.

 

"That was some fucked up shit, and I've been in this business for a long time." Fernel scratched at his jaw.

 

An asari gusted in, clutching data files to her chest. Garrus recognized her as a nurse working the girl's case. "Her rape kit came back, she, uh... has been through a lot." She fidgeted at the corner of the data pad, the rubber padding coming loose. 

 

"Details?" Fernel stood. Garrus felt like he shouldn't be here, felt like he would betray the girl he had found, who insisted that he escort her to the nearby hospital even when help arrived, clutching his hand. She wouldn't be touched by anyone else. Duty kept him rooted to his seat.

 

"Mostly turian, but we knew that from the, uh, bite and claw marks..." The asari shifted, trailing off, nervously flipping through the data file without looking at the pages. Garrus caught a glimpse of an image of torn human flesh, red with blood. 

 

There was a sickly stillness, all three almost queasy with thoughts of what had happened to Viola Shepard, the colonist girl.

 

Fernel grunted, heading for the door, the nurse swift on his heels. "C'mon, Vakarian."

 

Garrus leapt to his feet, following his captain through the door.

 

Fernel liked to talk as he walked. "Garrus, I've got an idea that's a little unorthodox."

 

Garrus struggled to keep up with the older turian's pace, heavy boots clunking. "Sir?"

 

"Considering I just got a ping that the girl is demanding to see you," Fernel waved his open Omnitool, ignoring messages from frantic social workers. "I'm giving you a promotion of sorts."

 

"I don't understand."

 

"You will."

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Viola stared at the soft crease of her arm, the IV pumping fluids into her severely dehydrated body. Her room was quiet, she having recently gotten out of surgery, new staples holding her body together where it  had been rendered. Nurses fluttered around her, glancing at her with a mix of awe and sympathy. With the way they were looking at her, you'd think nothing bad ever happened on the Citadel. She looked out the window, tracing a bandaged finger over the IV. If she stared hard enough, she could see the world tilt slightly as the arms of the Citadel spun.

 

Her door opened, heavy boots breaking the delicate silence. A nurse scampered out, Viola clenched her fist until the cut on her palm throbbed. A cleared throat brought her attention to a stiff looking turian, he was a cop. C-Sec. Whatever.

 

"Viola, I'm Fernel, captain of this branch of C-Sec." Fernel sat himself in the chair next to her cot. Her blue friend stood anxiously behind him, mandibles flaring. Tatiana, one in her army of nurses, pretended to flick through the data file, nervous as ever. Maybe it wasn't that Tatiana was a nervous person and Viola just made her nervous.

 

"You're here to ask questions." Viola's voice cracked, she licked her lips.

 

"We are."

 

"I already answered some, from that guy with the pole up his ass." She plucked at a loose thread on her nightgown. It reminded her of her shirt from the cell. She hated it.

 

"Well, now I want to ask some. Is that okay?" Fernel scratched at his jaw. Viola didn't peg him for an anxious man, but this seemed to be a tick of his. She shrugged with one shoulder, bandaged fingers slipping as she plucked at the thread.

 

Fernel cleared his throat again, and switched on the data pad. "So, you were captured by batarian slavers from your home planet of Mindoir. This is correct?"

 

She nodded, gnawing at her lip.

 

"Any family."

 

"Mom and dad. They're dead now."

 

Fernel nodded, scrolling to the next page. "Do you know how long you were kept on that ship?" She shook her head. "You were held for 3 days, according to the ship's manifests. Turian military tracked it down with your help and rescued 276 slaves from your colony and other various missions."

 

"You're welcome."

 

Fernel blinked, "Do you remember what happened next?"

 

"I was traded."

 

"To?"

 

"Some guys, I don't remember what they called themselves."

 

"Red Bloods." Her blue friend coughed when his boss gave him a pointed look, Tatiana fidgeted with a monitor against the wall.

 

The C-Sec captain turned back to her, mandibles tight to his face. "Do you know how long you were with them?"

 

"Five-" She stopped, choking on her words. Viola coughed, grip tightening on the loose threat. "I woke up five times, I don't know how long I was with them."

 

"You were with them for a total of 13 days."

 

"Sounds right, I guess."

 

"And if I have heard correctly, you wiped out the entire crew by yourself." Fernel flipped to an image that made her friend's eyes widen, and based on the reflection on the captain's armor, it was an image of the inside of the ship.

 

"I did."

 

"With a knife you fashioned from, what, exactly?"

 

"A panel I pulled off the wall."

 

Fernel leaned back in his seat. "Why did you pull this panel off the wall."

 

"I had to get to the wires." Viola waved vaguely. "The wires for, uh, the door. I needed to get it open. I'm good at the electronics stuff, computers."

 

"And once you were free and had killed the crew, consisting of one turian, three humans, a salarian, and a volus, you walked out."

 

"Yeah, and I met my new friend." Viola peered almost shyly at Garrus, running a hand through her greasy hair. She wished she had taken a shower.

 

Fernel was silent for a time, eyes searching. She avoided his gaze, plucking at the damned thread.

 

He shifted taking a deep breath, "Do you mind if we ask some more specific details?"

 

"Go ahead."

 

"Can you tell me about the turian aboard the ship?"

 

Her hand jerked so hard, the IV slipped out of her arm, a pearl of blood smearing against her skin. Tatiana hurried forward to replace it, and was met with a kick to the face as Viola scrambled off the bed. Sorry, Tatiana. Visions of a needle-point smile haunted her, the heavy scent of his skin and breath. It was on her, chasing her around the bed. She had to get out, she had to get away-

 

Viola crashed into a heavy chest, the captain of C-Sec struggling to calm and contain her. He was speaking, but she couldn't hear him, only could focus on how his talons dug into her arms. With a scream, she twisted out of his grip, crashing into a trolley and knocking the tray to the floor. The door yawned before her, light pouring through. For a moment, she thought it was the sun, back on her colony. She bolted.

 

"Viola, stop!" She obeyed, hating the fear in his voice.

 

Her blue friend stepped between her and the door, palms out and open. "You don't have to talk about him, you don't even need to _think_ about him. He's dead. He can't hurt you."

 

Viola, panting, searched him. Searched him for some lie, maybe _he_ wasn't dead, maybe she hadn't cut him enough. Had she cut him? She needed to check, where was-

 

"Viola!" Her gaze snapped up, meeting his eyes. Blue, not red, blue. Blue friend, she could trust him, he helped her. "Can you hear me?"

 

"Y-yes, yes, I'm here. I'm here." She rubbed at her mouth, the juncture of her neck and shoulder burning. Tatiana groaned, leaning against the edge of the cot, clutching her cheek. Her words came out in a jumble. "I'm sorry I hit you Tatiana, I didn't mean to, I was just scared and I don't-"

 

Tatiana lifted a hand, a small smile on her face. "It's okay, Viola, I understand."

 

Viola nodded blankly, sitting on the edge of her bed, gauzed fingers plucking at the thread.

 

Fernel watched, arms folded against his chest. He turned to her friend, eyes losing some of their hardness. "Good work, Vakarian."

 

Vakarian nodded, mandibles flaring. He stood a little taller.

 

The captain turned to her, silent for a moment. "Viola, there is a question of where you are to stay. The Citadel is providing you with therapy and regular check-ins with a doctor, but you cannot live on your own."

 

"Because I'll hurt myself," She swallowed, watching the world tilt outside her window, "Or someone else."

 

Fernel nodded. "I was wondering if you would like Garrus to be your caretaker?"

 

"What?" Vakarian's jaw slacked open, "But, sir-"

 

"If it's okay with him." Viola chewed the inside of her cheek, tasting metal.

 

Fernel turned to his subordinate, "Well, Vakarian?"

 

Garrus clenched and unclenched his jaw, flashes of needle-teeth showing. She wasn't afraid. "Sir, I would be honored."

 

Captain Fernel nodded approvingly. "You'll walk her to and from her sessions, and she will be staying in your residence. You can expect a pay raise and less hours, but you are still expected to preform your duties outside of this."

 

Garrus saluted, blue eyes focused on Viola. "Yes, sir."

 

Fernel chuckled, walking out the door with Garrus at his heels. Before the door closed, Viola caught a fraction of the conversation.

 

"Do you understand now, Vakarian?"

 

"Yes, sir, I do."

 

Viola plucked the thread free from the retched nightgown. Running it through her fingers, she snapped it and flung it away. The world tilted.


	5. Chapter 5

What the _fuck_ was he thinking?

 

Garrus cursed himself, cursed his boss, _spirits,_ curse every damn alien on the Citadel. How could he take care of a human? He didn't have the training, expertise, and only a basic grasp on all things human. He was going to have a fun time on the Extranet tonight, that was for sure.

 

With a huff, he hoisted the box onto his hip, fumbling  with his onmitool to unlock his apartment door. Garrus muttered an oath as he closed out of the program, _again_.

 

"Do you need some help?" Viola hovered nearby, arms wrapped protectively around herself. She cast a suspicious glance at a passing elcor, as if the hulk would gain a sudden burst of murderous speed and trample the passing family of humans.

 

"No, I- _spirits fuck -_ I got it." Garrus stumbled as the door he was leaning against while trying to open (no very smart, now that he thought about it) gusted open. "Ahm, welcome home."

 

Vakarian set the box of supplies labeled "Basic Human (Female)" on his rickety coffee table, wondering why he didn't bother to do the dishes last night. He looked back at his house guest, paralyzed half a step into the door. "Is everything okay?"

 

"Yeah, I just..." She swallowed, eyes darting around. "Is it safe?"

 

Garrus paused, mandibles flaring. "Would you like to check with me?"

 

Viola nodded, eyes wide.

 

Garrus pulled his pistol from it's holster, crouching into a half-walk as to not make noise against the tiled floors. Viola followed as he walked through the small apartment, checking the bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom. He even pulled open the creaking door of his closet to check behind hanging clothes and his spare suit of C-Sec grade armor.

 

He turned to her, smiling. "Better?"

 

Viola nodded, rubbing angrily at her face with the too-long sleeves of her shirt. "Yeah, yeah, I'm better."

 

Garrus awkwardly patted her shoulder, mind racing to remember the bits and pieces of human culture Kyle had told him. He suddenly wished that most of the times he was with Kyle didn't involve alcohol. "It's okay."

 

Viola fixed him with a withering look, then cracked a tentative smile. "Thank you, Officer Vakarian.

 

"My pleasure." He clipped the pistol back into it's holster, heading back into the living room. "And call me Garrus, Officer Vakarian is my father's name."

 

Viola nodded, rubbing at the hem of her borrowed shirt, shifting from foot to foot.

 

"Make yourself at home, Miss Shepard."

 

As the days went on, things got easier. They went shopping together, buying clothes that fit as well as a bag of garments Viola _really_ didn't want Garrus to see. What was with humans and underwear? Garrus would never know. After the first night Viola wrinkled her nose at the standard issue rations from the care package, Garrus ordered for there to be regular deliveries of both raw ingredients and pre-prepared meals to be delivered to the apartment. On Viola's insistence, it was a "trusted" employee, Garrus knew a guy. 

 

He sure was pulling a lot of favors for this job.

 

There was the situation of sleeping arrangements. He insisted she take the bed and he sleep on the couch, while she insisted it was his home and his bed. Garrus corrected that it was actually now _their_ home, and that he would force her to take the bed if he had to. Viola was kind enough to say she'd like to see him try, and remembering the ship full of dead mercs, Garrus graciously renounced his argument and slept in the bed. The matter had not been addressed since, but Garrus was building a case for a rebuttal.

 

Fast forward a week, and they were working like a well cared for rifle. Garrus would walk her to her appointments and then to work, sitting at a desk filing forms and taking cases from witnesses. According to Fernel, it was "too dangerous to the general populous" for Garrus to work the streets, because spirits forbid they have to find another officer crazy enough to do what he did. Garrus replied in kind, and told him to shove it. When work ended, he would pick up Viola from her last physical therapy session and walk home, stopping at the market for any supplies they had forgotten. Like a hairbrush, whatever that was. Garrus would cook dinner, Viola would wash the dishes from last night, and they'd eat, alternating who would pick the movie and bickering like two varren over a carcass. Before bed, he would help change the dressings on her wounds, flinching every time the large pad covering the bite wound on her neck came off. Vakarian wasn't sure if she noticed or not. Other than that, things went smoothly, and they were relatively content.

 

Well, until the break-in.


	6. Chapter 6

Viola's eyes opened with a snap, eyes darting around in the dark. Straining, she listened again for the noise, propped on her elbows. Hearing nothing, she settled back down, eyes fixed on the ceiling. She briefly wondered when she'd stop startling away at every tiny noise, even a passing salarian returning home from the night shift woke her up. He was a nice man.

Then the noise was there again, muffled cursing and a sharp grinding noise.

 

Someone trying to open the door.

 

Surging up, heart racing, she assessed her options. She could hide, but then they'd find her and be angry. She could wake Garrus, but then it could be nothing and then _he'd_ be angry. Viola choked up, gaze swimming, and sat heavily on the makeshift bed. She was panicking, she knew it, and bit her nails into her skin to focus, bring some clarity back. Blood welled under her fingers, and she released her grip. Her therapist had told her about self-inflicted punishment, she'd get a stern talking to at today's session.

 

Then the door swooshed open, and she only had seconds to dive behind the couch.

 

Viola covered her mouth, shaking. She should have told Garrus, should have told him. He'd shoot them and save the day, that's what he did.

 

"Viola?"

 

Viola froze, peeking over the arm of the couch. Garrus was awake. Why was he calling for her if he knew people were here? Didn't he know better? He was a cop for Christ's sake, what did they teach at the C-Sec academy?

 

"Viola, are you okay? I smell-"

 

One of the men who broke in charged at Garrus, still dressed in his loose-fitting sleeping pants. Sleepy-eyed, Garrus recoiled, grabbing the man's arm and pinning him to ground. "What the hell?"

 

Okay, so, he didn't know. Time for Plan B. What was Plan B again? 

 

"Get on the ground!" One of the other men had a gun, a human dressed in ill-fitting armor. The turian under  
Garrus managed to buck him off, snarling. Garrus landed hard, coughing as the breath was knocked out of him. Viola ducked back behind the couch, mind racing.

 

A salarian walked over to the couch, picking up her blanket. "Boss, someone else was here."

 

The human cursed, and Viola heard Garrus grunt. Without a thought, Viola vaulted over the couch, slamming her shoulder into the gut of the salarian robber. He went down like a toy, yelling on his way down. The boss stumbled back, brandishing the gun. Garrus struggled against the turian he was wrestling for control, spotting Viola standing over the felled hacker.

 

"Viola, no!" Garrus rolled on top of the turian, a taloned hand pushing his head away.

 

Viola,  _yes_.

 

She launched herself at the human, hoping she could take him down if she could surprise him. Unsurprisingly, he did not, but he didn't notice that she had grabbed one of the tools Garrus cleaned his gun with and left on the counter. He warned that if the voltage was too high, it could really shock her. She jammed the instrument between the exposed section of suit at his waist, flipping the switch and watching the sparks fly.

 

After some gurgling and twitching, the human fell, but not before squeezing off one shot that burned a streak on the wall. The turian wriggled free from under Garrus, but stumbled and fell over his groaning salarian friend, giving Garrus time to sit on his back and lock omnicuffs over his wrists.

 

Viola sat on the couch with a huff, body sore as the adrenaline drained out of her system. Garrus called C-Sec, locking cuffs over the remaining two criminals, though the cuffs on the human seems redundant, as he was still twitching from the shock.

 

Officers Garrus addressed as "Kyle" and "Waylan" collected the aspiring gang of robbers, loading them into hover cars marked with C-Sec branding. In little less than 15 minutes, the apartment was returned to normal, aside from the burnt smell of plaster and the evidence to accompany it.

 

Garrus sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Guess I won't get my deposit back."

 

Viola rubbed her shoulder, hand coming away red. She'd reopened the bite on her shoulder. Cursing, she twisted around, trying to assess the damage.

 

"Are you hurt?" Garrus pulled the box of bandages from the shelf, mandibles flared in worry.

 

"Just a bit." She pulled down the shirt and turned so he could tend to her.

 

He worked quietly, cautious with his talons. "You should have been more careful, they were just robbers. _Things_ can be replaced, but you could have been seriously hurt."

 

"I thought they were hurting you."

 

"I thought they had already hurt you, I could smell..." He trailed off, pressing the bandage into place.

 

"Smell what?" Viola turned to face him.

 

"Your blood." He looked away, rubbing at a mandible. If she was reading turian expression right, he was embarrassed.

 

"From this." She showed him the half-moon cuts in her forearm, blood dried and flaking away.

 

"Why'd you do this?" Garrus gingerly lifted her arm for closer inspection.

 

"I was scared." It was Viola's turn to be embarrassed, heat flooding her face.

 

Garrus released her arm, and they stood in silence, not looking at each other.

 

"What does it smell like, human blood?" Viola tilted her head, hand on her hip.

 

"It, uh," Garrus scratched at a mandible in thought, "It varies from human to human, but generally it smells like metal, metal and salt."

 

"You've probably become very acquainted with mine." Viola smiled wryly, rubbing the ache from her arm.

 

"Yeah, I have." Garrus paused and gushed out a breath, leaning against the kitchen counter.

 

"You okay?" She took a step toward him, worrying her lip between her teeth.

 

"I'm fine, I guess I'm just out of shape." He winced, circling his shoulder in its socket.

 

Viola grinned, poking his gut. "What, cushy job making you soft?"

 

Garrus swatted at her hand, mandibles flaring widely. "No! I mean, uh, I'm just out of practice is all. Nothing more."

 

Viola rolled her eyes, settling back into her bed. "Goodnight, Garrus."

 

"Goodnight, Viola." He turned to his room, the door sliding open.

 

She propped herself up on the arm of the couch. "Hey, Garrus?"

 

"Yes?" He turned, eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

 

"What does my blood smell like?"

 

Garrus snorted, grinning a turian grin. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He turned away, door closing shut behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

"Garrus, are you sure this is a good idea?"

 

"If you don't want to go in, we can always go home." Garrus turned to his companion, the girl bundled in one of his spare jackets. Viola eyed the door to the nightclub warily, left hand flexing.

 

"Won't your friends be mad?"

 

He snorted. "Mad? If they're mad at me for missing one night then they aren't good friends, are they?"

 

Viola glared, pouting. "That's not what I meant."

 

"C'mon, don't pout," Garrus flicked a talon under her chin, a common turian gesture. "Let's go in."

 

"I don't pout!" Garrus wasn't looking, but he was sure she was still pouting. She jogged to keep up with him.

 

Flux was one of the less sleazy clubs on the Citadel, and Garrus hoped it wouldn't be too uncomfortable for Viola. He didn't want Viola to think she was a burden, because she wasn't, but Garrus missed spending time with his coworkers. It's not like he could just leave her at home.

 

"Hey, Vakarian, over here!" Kyle waved them over from the group's booth, a table they often occupied. Garrus sat Viola next to Waylan, hoping the maiden asari wouldn't flirt too much. Garrus plopped himself next to another turian, Tibel. "We were wondering when you'd show your ugly hide."

 

"It's called plates, Kyle." Garrus reached across the table to swat at the human's head. "And don't pretend your human fleshiness is attractive."

 

"What can I say, I hear turian ladies like a little squishiness." Kyle waggled his brows, ducking another swipe from Garrus.

 

The other turian, Tibel, snorted, knocking back his drink. "Like you could even talk to a turian woman."

 

Waylan leaned close to Viola, smiling. "We've met, but I never caught your name." She was lying, everyone in the office knew Shepard's name.

 

Viola accepted the asari's offered hand, darting a glance at Garrus. "I'm Viola, nice to meet you. Waylan, right?"

 

"Get a room." Kyle groaned, shoving Waylan's shoulder.

 

Waylan flushed purple, turning up her nose. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

 

"Yeah, well, while you two get," Tibel shot Waylan a scolding glare, " _Acquainted,_ Garrus and I will get drinks."

 

"I'm not done with my drink yet."

 

"You are now." Tibel snatched the drink from Kyle's hand, despite his protest.

 

Garrus looked to Viola, who was occupied by Waylan's flirtations, seemingly oblivious. With a sigh, he slid from the seat and made his way to the bar. A taloned hand descended onto his shoulder, yanking him close to Tibel.

 

"Does she know?"

 

"Know what?" Garrus shook his shoulder free from the others grip.

 

"That she _reeks_ of the turian who kidnapped her? The one who-" Tibel was cut off when Garrus shoved his shoulder. "Does she know?"

 

"No, I didn't tell her." Garrus looked away, neck hot.

 

"So I'm guessing she doesn't know the significance of the bite, either?" Tibel glared, taking Garrus' silence as an answer. "You need to tell her."

 

"Tell her what? That every turian she passes knows what happened? That a dead one claimed her?" Garrus growled, leaning against the bar.

 

"What can I get you two?" A smiley human bartender asked, holding up the notepad app on his omnitool.

 

"Nothing now, thanks." Something in Tibel's tone made the human scamper off. "Don't forget krogan."

 

Garrus huffed, mumbling. "Like she's going to meet a krogan."

 

"Don't get smart."

 

"Look, Tibel, she's been through enough. And it's not like anyone is going to tell her, it would go against everything we've been taught." Garrus was reminded of the strict code and ethics his father taught him as a child, before he even began his formal education.

 

"It would be better for her to hear it from you than anyone else." Tibel waved over the bartender, ordering drinks.

 

Garrus hummed, carting drinks back to the booth. Kyle had wedged himself into the corner, glaring at Waylan who was showing Viola a video on her omnitool, some asari romance clip no doubt.

 

Tibel slid a drink to Waylan and Kyle, checking the rims for levo and dextro identifying colors. "On me."

 

Waylan ignored her drink, smiling sweetly at the poor girl. Garrus set a drink in front of Viola a little too hard, who looked up at him questioningly, sensing his foul mood. He waved her off, settling back in his seat.

 

The natural rhythm of the night resumed, Tibel and Kyle taking low shots at Waylan's love life, who responded in kind. After a scathing remark about Kyle's last girlfriend sent him groaning against the table, red faced, Viola joined in, laughing behind the sleeve of her borrowed jacket. Garrus allowed himself to relax, mandibles set in an easy smile.

 

"Garrus, seeing anyone lately?" Kyle leered at him, knowing the answer.

 

"As a matter of fact, I have not." Garrus kicked his friend under the table.

 

"He's been too busy kissing his boss's ass to look around." Viola grinned viciously, Garrus' jaw dropping in shock. Kyle howled with laughter, Waylan choking on her drink. Even Tibel muffled a chuckle with a cough.

 

"Garrus, I like her!" Kyle reached across the asari to clap a hand on Viola's back.

 

Seeing Viola flinch under his hand, Garrus sat up straighter, reaching halfway across the table. The laughter died, Kyle paling.

 

"I-I'm sorry, Viola, did I hurt you?" Kyle stammered, wincing. Garrus could almost see him kicking himself.

 

"I'm fine." Her voice was small.

 

Garrus stood, downing the last of his drink. "I'm tired, I'm thinking of heading home. Viola?"

 

Shepard stood, leaving her untouched drink.

 

"'Night, everyone." Garrus waved, heading for the exit, turning away from Tibel's burning glare.

 

"Bye, Viola." Waylan smiled, if a bit sadly. Viola waved.

 

The walk home was tense and quiet, Viola clutching Garrus' elbow and watching the ground pass under her feet.

 

"You okay?" Garrus looked down, trying to read her face.

 

"I'm sorry." He saw her jaw clench. "I ruined the fun, messed up in front of your friends."

 

"It's not your fault, Kyle should have known better."

 

Viola glared at him, tears budding in her eyes. "I'm not fragile, Garrus, I'm not made of glass."

 

"I know you're not, you just need a bit more time to heal."

 

She sniffed, grip tightening on his arm.

 

"Hey," Garrus tapped a talon on the underside of her chin, forcing her gaze back up. "Don't pout; we have to replace that bandage."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patae - Pa-tie

"-pard? Miss Shepard?"

 

Shepard looked up, her concentration broken. "Yes?"

 

Her therapist, Patae, had her brows drawn in close, a wrinkle forming between her eyes. "What were you thinking of, Miss Shepard?"

 

"You can call me Viola, everyone does." Viola drew her fingertips over the surface of her seat, it felt like velvet. Who knew asari would make velvet about 60,000 years before humans did?

 

"Miss Shepard, you're dodging the question." Patae sat back, tapping away at the datapad without breaking eye contact; steely, blue, eye contact.

 

"Patty, you know I dodge questions when asked something I'm uncomfortable about," Viola quirked a brow, "Aren't you the therapist?"

 

"Miss Shepard-"

 

"Why is an asari a _human_ therapist anyway? Humans are a pretty recent addition to the larger known galaxy." 

 

Patae's lips tightened. "I was a moderator for human/turian relations during the end of the First Contact War, I learned a lot about human psychology during my studies. The next logical step was to become a therapist. Now, if you would please-"

 

"And here I thought it was because of the mind-melding stuff." Viola scratched at her nose.

 

"That as well. May I continue?"

 

"You may."

 

Patae sighed and scrolled through Shepard's file, "What had your attention so intensely?"

 

Viola sucked on her teeth, leaning forward, "Well, I was thinking about my handler."

 

"Mr. Vakarian."

 

"The one and only." Viola chewed on her lip. "I think he's mad at me."

 

"And why do you think that?"

 

"I think I'm, ya know, a burden or something to him. He doesn't hang out with me as much, he just seems... off." Viola waved a hand through the air.

 

"Is it possible you are connecting behavioral changes on your own part to be Mr. Vakarian's?"

 

"You mean like projecting?" Patae nodded. "No, I don't think so."

 

"Miss Shepard, it is very common for survivors of abuse to take blame for things that would not normally their fault. There could be any number of reasons for Mr. Vakarian's behavior, including none at all."

 

"So, it's possible he's just naturally awkward and grumpy."

 

"That is not the point I was trying to make." Patae sighed, the wrinkle forming between her brow,

 

"Then what point were you trying to make?" Viola wound a tassel from a pillow around her finger.

 

"There may have been no change in Mr. Vakarian's behavior, perhaps it was yours."

 

"Me?"

 

"Yes." They sat in silence for a while, Viola pondering.

 

"No, no, I think it's him. Something is bothering him." Viola sat back, releasing the tassel.

 

Patae nodded, submitting. "Then ask him once you get the chance. A healthy relationship requires communication."

 

"I guess so." Viola shrugged, pulling at the tassel.

 

"Do you often find that you blame certain events on yourself?" Patea tipped her head.

 

"Like what?"

 

"The death of your parents?"

 

"I don't want to talk about that." Viola shifted uncomfortably.

 

"I'm well aware, Miss Shepard, but it is best to-" A ping from Viola's omnitool broke off the conversation, Shepard rushing to open the message.

 

"I gotta dash Patty, my ride is here." Viola bolted up, snatching her coat from the back of the couch. "Later, doc."

 

As she trotted out of the room, Viola heard Patae muttering to herself. "Why do they always interrupt me?"

 

Viola released the grip from her arm, observing the white half-moon marks that remained. Patae said Shepard did so because she was "silently punishing herself," whatever that meant. Either way, she should really cut her nails. Viola waved to her nurse, Tatiana, as she walked past a hallway, who stopped to wave back. She was assisting an elderly turian, with visible wrinkles around his eyes. His talons shook as his head shot up, milky eyes seeing through and past Viola. 

 

"Whore!" Spittle flew from the elder's mouth, rotting teeth clacking, talon jabbing accusingly. "Disgrace to turian pride! You are an abomination, a product of a soft generation! You should be dashed upon the stones, left to rot in Palaven! You-!"

 

Tatiana rushed the man into his room, shooting an apologetic glance over her shoulder, mouthing an apology. Viola stood, rooted to the spot, shaken. Another ping from her Omnitool brought her back, drawing up her arm to open the message.

 

**[5:16 pm] Garrus:** I'm here, I bought dinner. How does takeout sound?

**[5:16 pm] Viola:** sounds good on my way

**[5:20 pm] Garrus:** Everything okay?

**[5:21 pm] Viola:** yea just some weird old guy. ill tell you about it in the car

**[5:21 pm] Garrus:** Don't talk to strangers.

 

Viola rolled her eyes, closing the messaging app. She looked around, finding herself alone in the brightly lit "Rehab Center." They catered to those who needed both part time and full time care. Viola being part time, and the old guy... full time. Shepard shook herself, brushing off the uneasy feeling the old turian left in her stomach. Who knows what he saw, or why he said it? He probably wasn't talking _to_ her, just _at_ her, right?

 

Right?

 


	9. Chapter 9

"Do humans really eat this?" 

 

Garrus lifted a slice of meat between his talons, face screwed into a frown. Viola scoffed at him. "Weren't you the one who picked it out?"

 

"The packaging made it sound nice." Garrus sets it back in the plastic, wiping his hand on a dish towel.

 

"It uses the word 'moist.'"

 

"I thought that was a good thing!" Garrus wrapped up the bits of meat, placing it in the refrigerator. 

 

"It is... but, the word is just," Viola wrinkled her nose, shuddering, "Ugh."

 

Garrus rolled his eyes, flopping onto the couch and flipping through the channels. "How does elcor golf sound? They seem to be taken with the, uh, sport."

 

"Do turians have sports?"

 

"Not in the way you're thinking."

 

Viola gave him a disgusted look, and he shoved her legs off of his lap. "Not like that,"

 

"Then like what? Battle of wits?"

 

"More like gladiatorial fights."

 

"Oh, so, football."

 

"Football?"

 

"Yeah, here, let me show you." Viola snatched the remote from his hand, switching to another channel. Human men filled the screen, wearing armor and smashing into each other. Garrus watched in awe as one player dived to tackle another to the ground, his jaw dropping. Viola smiled smugly. "Impressed?"

 

Vakarian slumped back in his seat, rubbing his brow plates. "Humans are _intense_."

 

"You could say that again."

 

They watched the rest of the game, not in favor in any particular side. Garrus cheered at each goal, Viola grinning wildly. When another player had to be lifted off the field by a biotic medic, Garrus was out of his seat and yelling, demanding the referee dish out some sort of punishment. Eventually, the game ended and Garrus switched off the screen.

 

"I forgot to ask, how did your day go? Any progress with Patae?" Garrus pushed her legs off of his for the fifth time, she replaced them.

 

"Fine, Patty and I had a nice talk. She thinks I blame myself for what happened, but I don't think I do." Garrus fixed her with a looked and she sighed. "I know, its her job and she knows best... I'll work on it, promise."

 

"What was that thing about strange old men?" Garrus pulled off her shoes, tossing them by the door.

 

"Just some old turian." Viola stretched, head resting on the arm of the couch. "He called me a whore."

 

Garrus frowned, mandibles pulling tight against his face. "Did he say why?"

 

"No, he just kept yelling about how I was an abomination or a disgrace or something." Viola waved a hand dismissively. Garrus stiffened, not looking at her. "Garrus?"

 

Garrus scratched at his neck, heat rising on his skin. "There's something I should tell you."

 

"Hit me."

 

Garrus cleared his throat, nervous. "Well, uh... I don't know how to talk about this." He gave her a pleading look, she frowned.

 

"That bad, huh?" Viola gnawed at her lip.

 

"Look, okay," He sucked in a breath, bracing himself. "When you were... hurt... you were bitten."

 

Viola rubbed her shoulder, face blank.

 

"In turian cultures, it's a claiming of sorts. It's kind of like a human wedding ring, without the ceremony or legally binding agreement, just the ring."

 

Her face twisted, fingers digging into her skin. "How did he know about it."

 

"He could smell it. The bite also leaves scent markers to signal to other turians that you're... claimed."

 

"Will it ever go away? Can I cover it up?" Viola was fighting tears, face red.

 

Garrus pulled her in close for a hug, her arms tightening around him. "In about a year it'll fade."

 

"And everyone can smell it? Everyone knows?"

 

"Just turians and krogen, but they wont say anything."

 

"But what if they think you did it?" She looked up at him, horrified.

 

"I can promise you that he and I smell very different." He ran a hand through her hair, taking a moment to appreciate the dark locks.

 

"That's good." She settled against him sniffing.

 

"Are you mad at me for not telling you?" Garrus was stiff again, anxious.

 

"No, no, I'm not mad." Shepard sat up, scrubbing the tears away. "I can get it."

 

"I'm glad." Garrus stood up. "You want icecream?"

 

"Yes, please."

 

Later, Garrus woke up, woken by shuffling outside his door. The time on his omnitool read 2:13 am. Garrus sat up, listening intently, tension in the line of his spine. A hand crept to his nightstand where his pistol lay, eyes never straying from the door.

 

"Garrus?" Her voice was muffled through the door, but Garrus relaxed instantly, swinging himself out of bed and opening the door.

 

"Viola, is everything okay?"

 

She looked up at him sheepishly, clutching her pillow to her chest. "Can I sleep with you?"

 

Garrus opened the door to invite her inside, settling back onto the bed. "Nightmare?"

 

Viola huddled under the blankets beside him, curling around the pillow. "Yeah."

 

Sighing through his nose, Garrus pulled her against his chest, realizing for the first time how small she was. "I gotcha."

 

She relaxed against him, and Vakarian listened to her heart rate slow. "Thank you, Garrus."

 

"My pleasure, Viola."


	10. Chapter 10

Viola frowned at her omnitool, skimming an article. "So if you pull on the-"

 

"Can you let go?" Garrus' groggy voice drew her gaze down. She was sitting on him, his left mandible trapped between two of her fingers.

 

She didn't move. "I'm practicing."

 

"Practicing what, annoying ways to wake me up?" He sat up on his elbows, squinting up at the page open on her omnitool. "'Turian Physiology'? Why are you reading that?"

 

"Self defense." Viola tugged lightly on the mandible, Garrus winced and pulled her hand away.

 

"Why do you need to learn self defense against turians? You have a big, strong one right here who can protect you." He grinned slyly, ducking out of the way of a swipe at his head.

 

"Don't feel too special, I'm learning self defense against all species." Shepard switched to another article. "Did you know salarians have a pressure point between their eyes? One good thwack and they're out of the game." She flicked her fingers on his forehead.

 

"If you hit most species between the eyes, they go down." He shifted uncomfortably. "Why are you sitting on me?"

 

"Well, I had to get to your face somehow." Viola probed a finger at the soft skin at his neck.

 

"You're, uh," Garrus grimaced, "Kind of in an uncomfortable position."

 

She frowned. "Am I hurting you?"

 

"Not exactly, but, uh-"

 

"Garrus Vakarian, are you calling me fat?" Viola gasped dramatically, sitting back. Garrus jerked underneath her, stammering. She frowned, flipping through her omnitool.

 

"Oh." She blinked. "Oh!"

 

"'Oh' is right." He squirmed.

 

Viola huffed, indignant. "How was I supposed to know your waist was an erogenous-?"

 

"You have the article open right in front of you!" He shoved her, trying to dislodge her. "And now that you know, get off!"

 

She rolled off, grumbling to herself. Powering down her omnitool, Viola huddled under the blankets. "Why do you get the nice bedding?"

 

Garrus grunted, sliding out of bed. "You refused to take it, remember?"

 

"Oh, yeah," She threw off the blankets. "What are we doing today?"

 

"Well, I have work-"

 

She groaned, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You always work!"

 

"It's called a job." Garrus pressed her hand to her face, grinning.

 

Prying his fingers away, Viola glared at him. "I don't have any appointments. What am I supposed to do when you're gone?"

 

"You could come with me."

 

"That's boring."

 

Garrus rolled his eyes. "I'll call Waylan, she's got the day off. Maybe you guys could see a vid or something."

 

"Alright, but on one condition."

 

"And that is?"

 

"I pick the vid. Waylan will probably pick that new asari/human romance one."

 

Garrus laughed, and shoved her out of the room.

 

-

 

"I don't see why we couldn't see 'Sunset Purple.'" Waylan grumbled, sinking down into her seat.

 

Viola bit into her apple, quirking a brow at the asari. "Take your pick: the weird biotic sex scene, or the pool sex scene, or the-"

 

Waylan waved a hand. "You've made your point."

 

"Besides, you'd probably use some bad pick up lines on me afterword."

 

"Who says I won't use some anyway?"

 

Viola grinned. "You've made your point."

 

The chatter of the cafe lulled their conversation, Waylan eating a delicate asari pastry. Viola crunched away at her apple. It didn't quite taste like the ones grown at home, on Mindoir, but it was as close as she could find. The ones that grew on the tree in her front yard were sweeter, baked in the near-constant sunlight that made its way through the planets atmosphere.

 

"Hey," Shepard looked up, Waylan brushing sugar off her hands. "How are things between you and Garrus?"

 

"Fine," Viola narrowed her eyes, "Why are you asking?"

 

Waylan smiled, fluttering her eyelashes. "No reason."

 

"Waylan."

 

"Oh, well, I was just wondering if Garrus had a crush on you." Waylan grinned, leaning on the table. "Or vise-versa."

 

Viola scoffed, arms crossing. "Garrus and I? No, no way."

 

"Oh, c'mon, you're cute, he's cute..."

 

"I'm not exactly 'cute,' I find it hard to believe Garrus would find me attractive at all."

 

"Why's that?"

 

"Well, I'm too skinny and short," Viola threw her hands in the air. "And he's a turian! Who knows what they like?"

 

Waylan shrugged. "Have you seen them? They probably go for the whole bony human thing. And you're just so cute and bite-sized." Grinning, she reached over and pinched Viola's cheek.

 

Viola swatted her hand away. "I can't tell if you're hitting on me or acting like my grandmother."

 

The asari ignored her, leaning closer. "The question is, do you find Garrus attractive?"

 

"You don't seem to get that we're from different species."

 

"Well, little colony girl, that's a thing that happens now." Waylan smiled. "But I can tell you that Garrus is _very_ attractive by turian standards."

 

"What does that even constitute?"

 

Waylan scratched at her jaw. "He has broad shoulders, he's tall, narrow waist. You know, turian stuff."

 

Viola flushed. "Yeah, turian stuff."

 

"Don't tell me you haven't considered it?"

 

"What, me and him? No, it would never work out."

 

"He's quite the catch, Viola, you're missing out."

 

"If you like his so much, why don't you date him?" Viola huffed, arms folded.

 

"He's not my type." Waylan grinned over the lip of her lifted glass. "I prefer bony humans."

 

"Gross."

 

-

 

Garrus and Viola settled into their routine, snacking on treats respective for their diets, watching a crime show with an over-acting volus as the lead.

 

"Do you wanna know what Waylan said today?" Viola flicked a piece of popcorn at him, he picked it off his shirt and threw it back.

 

"I imagine it was some attempt to seduce you, or some other helpless woman."

 

Viola grinned and laughed. "That's a given, but she also said we should date."

 

Garrus' brow plates raised. "You and her?"

 

"No, me and you."

 

Garrus coughed, sitting up and spilling some type of dried meat onto the couch. He quickly gathered them up into the packaging. "You know what's funny? Kyle said the same thing to me today."

 

"Really? They must be conspiring." Viola flipped through the channels.

 

"It would never work, me and you."

 

"That's what I said!"

 

"We're too similar, it's a miracle that we can even stand living together."

 

Viola grinned at him, "I bet I put a real strain on that this morning."

 

Garrus snorted, sneaking a talon under her arm to poke her stomach. "You could say that."

 

They sat in silence for a moment, watching a comedian hanar preform a show at a local bar.

 

"I don't even know how old you are." Viola sipped at her drink nonchalantly.

 

"Turians don't measure time the same way humans do." He pulled open his omnitool, calculating. "In human years, I'd be 20."

 

"Well, I'm 19."

 

He took a moment to process the data through the converter, his mandibles flaring. "Huh, well I guess we are very similar in age."

 

"The difference is that you're a successful military man AND C-Sec officer, and I'm just..." She sighed. "Some farm girl who just happened to make it on the Citadel."

 

Garrus looked at her, frowning. "Are you unhappy?"

 

"I mean, yeah, I guess." Shepard rubbed her neck. "My friends and family are dead, I was-" She looked down at her lap.

 

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Vakarian wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

 

"But if it hadn't happened, I'd never even be here. I'd never meet you."

 

"You'd be at some fancy tech school." He grinned at her, she shoved him away with a smile.

 

"I'd probably be some farm girl on some unheard of colony." Viola smiled sadly.

 

Garrus ruffled her hair, and she retaliated by digging her fingers between his plates, reaching for the ticklish spots there. He yelped and held her hands away. Laughing, they settled back into the couch just as the the comedy show came to a close, the hanar floating offstage. Garrus shut off the screen, casting the room into darkness, lit only by the light of passing skycars through the window.

 

"Thank you, Garrus."

 

"Anytime, Viola."


End file.
